All that I have
by Ollen70
Summary: Ever wonder who Gogo really is underneath everything? A series of vignettes featuring most of the FFVI characters, and the things they've left unsaid.
1. All that I have

Ollen70: I Never, ever do first person stories because I think they almost always turn out horribly, but please forgive me in this case. This one practically wrote itself - I don't feel like I really did much. These are thoughts, but I'm sure you'll figure out why the name's in quotation marks soon enough. Hope you enjoy it!  
  
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 3 (6, if you prefer,) is not mine. Too bad, huh?  
  
  
All that I have  
  
  
  
What a quiet place this is, here at the edge of things. I've been here for years, living as best I can in the caverns that only the zone eaters know how to enter, waiting for... well, I don't know, exactly. So much has changed in the time that I've been gone, I'm sure of it. I felt the day the earth was torn, though since I haven't ventured to the surface, I really don't know what to expect. So here I sit, waiting for you to find me again, knowing that you will, if I give you enough time.   
  
Not that I really have a choice, after all. I've waited this long. What am I supposed to do if you never come? It isn't as if there's anything else left for me, or any place that I can go and be accepted. I've learned to become a shadow, master of the simulacra, because that is the only way for me to survive. Any individuality I had died away in that moment, just as I'm certain a very significant part of you died as well.   
  
I'm not entirely alone here in the depths of the world. Others have come, including a strange man called Siegfried. Very strange, and not personable at all, but he spoke enough of the affairs of things, and it was interesting to me that he knew you. He was suspicious and guarded when I asked, because I understand his meetings with you weren't exactly under the best of circumstances, but he knows of the Falcon, which means you must have repaired it.   
  
I knew you would find it eventually, just as I know someday you'll come. Of course, I look forward to that with very mixed emotions. You won't know me when you see me, and I won't go out of my way to reveal who I am to you. Things have certainly changed for us, in ways neither of us ever imagined they could. Are you proud of the decisions you've made? I hope so. From what I've heard, you have absolutely every reason to be.   
  
If you do come, what happens then? Nothing will be the way it should, because I'm not what you remember. You can probably still picture flowing, golden hair, deep blue eyes, fair skin... but those were only ever temporary things. We know how the world works, you and I. Beauty is beautiful because it fades so fast, and I'm very certain you won't consider me beautiful any longer. Not physically beautiful, at least. I know that those things never really mattered to you, but that doesn't change the truth of these things. I hate the sight of myself, which you can surely understand, especially if I ever pull away these layers of fabric and let you see me for what I am now.   
  
I know I shouldn't doubt you, since you and I were made from the same mold. We aren't as odd inside as we appear, nor are we as gruff or as strong. But we were the only people who ever understood that about each other, weren't we? That's what brought us together in the first place, as well as our love of the sky. It's been years since I've seen the sky. According to Siegfried, it isn't even blue anymore, which breaks my heart. He explained a lot about a man and three statues, but it didn't make sense to me. All I cared about was you, since all of my other cares were taken away long ago.  
  
What would you say if you knew that I've thought about you every day? Not just random thoughts in passing. All I've thought about has been you. I wouldn't expect the same in return, because I know how much more must be dominating your time, now that the world is dying. I can't even explain how elated I was to learn that you are trying your best to stop that. I wish you would come and take me from here, so that I could fight with you. I want to help too. Maybe if we could stop this man who ruined our world, the sky might be blue again some day. I'd like that, but as long as I'm with you, the color of the sky we're under really wouldn't matter   
to me.  
  
I'll never tell you any of this. You've probably assumed as much, but if I ever speak to you I'm sure you'll know it's me. It would take more than the crash of an airship to take away who I am, though most of the stark confidence you used to admire is long gone. I admit that I'm afraid of you. If you were to turn away from me, I don't think I could go on, since it's been your memory and nothing else that's carried me this far.  
  
Have you forgotten me? No, I don't think that you have, but I'd forgive you, just the same. To you and to the entire world, I'm dead and have been for years. You placed a monument to me in the tombs near Kholingen, never realizing that it wasn't my body you'd sealed there. Siegfried told me much about you, Setzer Gabbiani, but I have many questions of my own that I'd like to ask, even if you don't have any answers. just to speak to you and hear your voice in return would be enough.   
  
You might have found someone else, and in that case I don't belong in your memories anymore. That's alright as well. I'm happy to live on by your side as someone else, just as long as I can be near you. What I feel is more than love - I need you and i always have. I flew closest to the stars, I traveled faster and farther than any man or woman ever had before, and in the end, as I lay in the wreckage of my glory, I remembered your face before anything else. You see, you're all that I have. Please come soon. I've been waiting for far too long.   
  
  
  
  
Ollen70: Well, there you go. Let me know what you think, please. Like I said, I'm new at this first person' thing, plus I've never written from a woman's (?) perspective before, so I have no idea. This was more or less prompted by a conversation I had with an ex-girlfriend last weekend (though none of the monologue has anything to do with either of us). Anywho, enough of me rambling. Thanks for reading. 


	2. The letter

  
Ollen70: This chapter was written for Setzer's point of view.  
  
The Letter  
  
  
My dear...   
  
Oh, my dear...   
  
If I could explain how much it still hurts to think of you, I would. It's one of those situations that vocalizing can't make better, no matter how much we wish it could. I was never one for putting my thoughts into words anyway, so I suppose it's so much the better.   
  
As I sit here, all I can think about is what used to be, and it burns inside of me to no end. When I lost the Blackjack, I thought I'd lost my wings. I did, truth be told, but that wasn't the worst part. In a way, I'd lost all of you that still remained to me - our last bond. When Kefka ruined the world, he took the sky as well. For a long time, I couldn't bear the sight of it. I spent the better part of a year in the Inn in Kholingen with the curtains drawn, wishing that this dream would end and the world would be as it should be once again.  
  
More and more, I realize that such a day might never come, but things are better than they were, at least. I still search for you in everything that I see, but I've become resigned to the fact that I won't find you. At the same time, I feel like I'm doing my part - like you're here with me. Like your arms are around me.  
  
One year after the fall, a woman found me. We had met before, and I think she understood what it was I was hiding from. This woman helped me remember who I was. If the two of you could ever have met, I'm sure you would have been friends.   
  
With her help, I made my way again into your tomb, back down into the very darkest part of my life. How is it I never told you how much you meant to me before that day? How is it that I waited so long, whispering into the night what I should have told you when we were still together? When you died, did you know that I loved you?  
  
To tell the truth, when I actually accepted that you were gone, I hated you for leaving me. For some reason, I blamed you for what happened. If anything, I should have blamed myself for not standing on that deck beside you. That way, we could have gone together. Sometimes, when the nights are long, I find myself asking questions that I'd rather not know the answers to. Were you afraid, before the end? Were you in pain? Did you cry out for me as I did for you when I learned what had happened?  
  
A new friend of mine had an odd experience not long ago on the legendary phantom train, and the stories he told of it chill my blood. Did it take you? Were you collected in that manner, or were you taken into heaven by friendlier means? You don't deserve purgatory. If anyone ever born on the earth was made for heaven, it was you. After all, you came closest to touching it while you were still living.   
  
When I'm feeling particularly romantic, I like to think that you didn't die in the wreckage of the Falcon, like I know you did. I like to believe that it was someone else's body, and that the angels merely reached out and took your hands while you flew by. You'd laugh if you heard me say that, though. I was always too superstitious for you. But then, God is probably the only one who knows just how much I truly miss you.   
  
My dearest Daryl... Forgive me if I never love again. You would have told me to, just as I would have wanted you to if our roles had been reversed. I've honestly tried, even resorting to a petty bet once, doing the best I could to leave you behind me. I can't, though. I will never feel the same for anyone else, and in some very strange way, that makes me proud.   
  
Don't you see? You're everything that I need. Even when you're gone, you're really still here. You'll live forever without end, because your soul was always of the enduring kind. All I ask is that you wait for me, as long as you can. Wait for me, Daryl. A lifetime can't seperate us.   
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Celes asked timidly, stepping into the small room he'd rented in the Kholingen Inn. He looked up from his desk, hunched over an ink-well and a sheet of parchment. He spun the quill expertly in her direction, gesturing lavishly for her to come in with a small, strange smile on his lips. For some reason, it felt almost heart-breaking to see him smile that way.   
  
What can I do for you, my dear? He asked quietly. While he spoke, he looked severely down on the parchment and blew out his breath, drying the ink. His tone was light, though, and it made her laugh a little.   
  
The attendant on the Falcon said to tell you that everything is ready. We're all set to leave, as soon as you want to.  
  
Excellent news, was his reply, smiling more brightly. More legitimately, really. She believed him when he spoke out from under that smile. She would have believed anything he'd told her.   
  
Folding the paper carefully, he put it in the inner pocket of his brown leather jacket and hefted himself up from out of his chair.   
  
Let's get going, shall we?  
  
What were you doing? She asked timidly, not wanting to pry into something that wasn't her business, but at the same time genuinely curious. That odd smile replaced the brighter one.   
  
I was just... getting some business in order. Turning, he adjusted his jacket and corked the ink-well. Let's get going. We have a lot to take care of.  
  
Feeling herself smile at his own off-hand manner, Celes fell into step behind him, leaving the dark little room in the past.   
  
Ollen70: Thanks for reading. Suggestions are always welcome. Thanks to JADexter and Kd Zeal - as always =) - for their reviews. 


	3. Regret

Ollen70: There are so many under-rated characters in FF-6, and this piece gave me an opportunity to expand on them, if in a somewhat unorthodox way. No, I don't have any idea what exactly went on in Cyan's entire past, so I made up a few things to make the story a bit more interesting. Please don't hate me for it. Big thanks to Kd Zeal for her review. )

Regret

Lord Retainer, Beloved husband,

This letter will never reach you. It is not permitted that the dead should pass such trifles on to the living, no matter how I beg. Be it Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory, the realms of those who have fallen do not suffer themselves with the living. I cannot reach you until the train comes for you in its right time. May it be that such a time does not come soon, though I long for you.

My dear husband... the love I felt for you will never dim, nor will it diminish. And yet, I seal it away in this letter. When the dead dwell too much on what is behind them, they lose their footing on the path to eternity. I would not become a specter, forever haunting the forgotten corners of the world. I cannot tie myself to you any longer, nor can I let you hold on to my memory and forsake the life that you must live.

And you _must _live, Cyan Garamonde. Our world and our kingdom may be lost past recovery. Your soul is not. Do not stake it to a ground that will crumble and burn. Do not so lightly throw away the chance for redemption, when it comes to you, for a cold vengeance or a sense of worldly honor. I could not face the Heavens without you. I need your rebirth, for I am a selfish woman.

Perhaps I am not the only one who is selfish. I watch from afar and grow saddened with what I see of you. Are you willing to hold on to the past until you, as well, are nothing but a specter, wearing your flesh like a cloak to hide this final truth? Have you not realized the purpose of your existence? You were not meant to bemoan what cannot be recovered, but to strive and to build again, if only to watch those things crumble as well. When the dream shatters, what can one do but build another?

This lesson I learned from you, dear husband. Owain was not our first child... and how my heart broke, when you took that first limp body from my arms and cast it into the snowy ground. I hated you for it, for not mourning as I myself mourned. Now that I see what your mourning has done, I could almost wish that you felt no compassion nor remorse. They are destroying you, my love. What a horrid thing, that such a beautiful past could become the tool of your daemons.

I would have you fight, and I would see you live. The time of your struggles is not ended, but if you are Cyan Garamonde, my lover and my friend above all others, you will rise. Never have I seen you defeated. I will _not_.

And so, my dearest love, I give you my strength. If these arms, now translucent and lost to the physical truths of the world, could lift blade or don armor, I would fight your battles for you. Your suffering wounds me as well, though you will never know it. Someday I'll be able to take your pain, when you and I are together in the halls of all Eternity. Until then, my love, know that what you mean to me will never fade. You will live because you must. Because I need you to.

Ollen70: Again, this is kind of a piece I just work on when I'm feeling inspired in one way or another, so I really have no idea how long it'll end up being. As always, reviews are very much appreciated. I like knowing what I'm doing right (or, more likely, wrong.) Thanks again for reading.


	4. What I've found

To Rachel;

I suppose you never really expected this from me. I'm not a sentimental man; at least, I never used to be. Times have certainly changed. If you woke, even though I know you won't, you'd be in a world you couldn't possibly recognize. I've lived here more than a year now, but the hatred for everything I see hasn't faded. If anything, it's grown worse.

I wish I still had you. I've wished that for a very long time, and I know it's never going to be true. You died five years ago. Even if your body still lives in the old man's basement, you haven't been in it for a very long time now. I don't expect that you'd even remember me, no matter what anyone said. I've been lost to you since the day in the caves, because of my own greed. I didn't realize what I had.

You were my greatest treasure. Funny, isn't it, how I didn't realize that until you were gone? Arvis -he was a friend of mine - once said something like that, that a person never knows what they value until they lose it. Twice now I've lost the things that mattered most to me.

I suppose it's only fair to tell you that things changed the most a year and a half ago. The Empire, who attacked my home for no reason and took you away, became my enemies and I was determined to fight them every way I could - to absolutely never forget them. Somewhere along the way I met a woman. Since you wouldn't remember me anyway, I don't know why I felt so guilty for it, but my only defense is that, as unlikely as it sounds, when I saw her I thought of you.

She was captured by the empire, though it was hard to overlook that she was once their general, turned traitor against them. She would make a powerful ally, I thought. In truth, I suppose I thought as well that I owed her - owed your memory because of the way I failed you. I asked very little of her past and only protected her as best I could. You would have wanted me to, wouldn't you?

When she hurt me, when my trust in her failed, I turned to you again. When I woke in this crumbling, desolate ruin of a world, searching for something to fill the emptiness, you were there. Twice now I've run from the past, hoping I could somehow undo or forget what happened that day. I may have found a way to bring you back to me. I do it as much for her as for you, a way to atone for all of the heartache I've wrought.

When you awaken, I'll ask you. I already know the answer, given that you were kind and thoughtful and altogether too good for a man like me, but I'll ask you just the same. Is there any way that you could forgive me? For everything I've done? Can life go on, after all of this?

The world is dead and here I sit, bemoaning my own woes. Is that yet another failure, that I worry more over you than what we've done to this once-beautiful world of ours? How can anyone face the day, knowing how much we've lost? Is there a point that we really can never move back from? I like to think you might have known the answers. In the deepest part of my heart, I sometimes hope you never wake up - I've idealized you, beyond what any person has any right to expect from another. I don't fear disappointment, though. I fear letting you down again, once more not being all that you needed of me.

If I can fix the world, I will. It isn't possible to repair the sky, I don't think. The blue will probably forever be stained a bloody red, a perpetual sunset always marring the horizon. If people can stop living in fear... I think that will be enough to satisfy me. But first, I have my own daemons to kill. After that, the last of the empire won't stand a chance.

If I can give you your moment... if I can finally end my search... I think I might finally be content. Maybe my sleep won't be so painful. I used to dream of you every night. Now it's rare, and I hate that. I swear to you, Rachel, no matter what happens, I won't forget. That's the smallest thing I can offer, but I offer it just the same. Please don't let go. I still love you, if only in a different way from before. I need to believe in you, because if I can, then maybe... maybe I might be able to believe in myself again someday.

Ollen70: Yet another chapter in an indefinite string of possibilities. Like I've said, this story is just sort of stress relief for me. I have no idea what to expect from it. However, if you can think of a character or situation you'd like to see, please let me know. I'd be happy to write about it for you. Thanks for reading. Any comments are, as always, greatly appreciated.


	5. Last rite

Disclaimer: None of the characters of FF6 belong to me. I mean no offense to their creators by writing this.

You're dead now. You have been for a very long time, or a very short time; I guess all these things come from perspective. For the children I've been watching over, this year has to have been a small eternity. I'm more than twenty now, and even for me the days stretch on forever. I seem to remember, very far back into the arms of the few memories I have left, that you once spoke to me of something like that. That time moved so quickly when you were old; that time was almost another creature, working in an entirely different way.

Was your mortality what caused you to do this? Were you afraid of death? Is that why you sought the power of the statues, even though they were cursed and wretched and capable of ruining everything of value? I think you were drawn by the danger, since you were the type of man to see beauty in dangerous things.

You saw beauty in me, didn't you? In my power, even though it devastated many of your own men when you set it loose in Albrook and Maranda. I've heard that I was terrible. I was - am, in fact - hated because of what happened there, but I can't defend myself. I don't remember anything, except cold and dark and... afraid.

Were you afraid, before the very end? Before Kefka killed you with the power that should have been yours? You must know, wherever you've gone, that most of the world hates you just as it once hated me. They fear Kefka but they hate you, because you are the only person they can think of to blame. Ambition yields death and terror and they hold it against you solely. I think they forget that you didn't act alone. Ambition brought their sons and daughters to you, to be modified and infused with magic, or to run the mighty machines of the empire.

I know, even if no one else does, that you never intended for things to go so far. I detest you as a man. I'm sure you know that as well. We trusted you, we expected you to see the terrible power you were reaching for, and yet you still thought you knew better. In the end, as you lay dying, I think you saw that.

Kefka only mutilated this earth. You never intended that. You would have been a tyrant, and you and I were destined to be enemies ever since I regained my own mind, because you are everything that that keeps me from my humanity.

Maybe I'm blaming you for the things I haven't been able to resolve on my own. In all truth, I really don't know what I am. Half mortal, half monster, and I don't know which is which. Human desire destroyed the entire race of Espers, and they were once human themselves, persecuted across time and space and all history. No one understood that. They didn't ask to be what they were, just as I don't want to spend the rest of my life split in half, wondering if I'll ever feel whole again.

I don't expect this to mean anything to you. You're dead. As I've said, I don't know what happened to you, but I hope that you're suffering. Not in the fires of hell, or because of any other divine consequence. I hope you suffer because your own conscience reminds you, when you look down on the world, just what you've done. It may be unfair to blame it all on you, but enough of it is certainly your fault. Have you come to terms with that?

If it offers any comfort - and I've not totally convinced myself that you deserve comfort - I'm going to fix what's happened. I'm not sure that I know what love is yet. I've had a very long time to think about it, and I'm closer to an answer than I once was, even if the truth is still a very long way off. I understand about beauty now, and about what's worth saving. 

I hope you give me your blessing because of what I'm trying to do, more because of what that action would mean for you than for me. I've found life, and I can't think of anything more perfect. I'll go with the others. I'll start again, even if Kefka or another like him destroys it again and again and again.

No man is completely evil. You weren't. I hope you can see that now. I hope that others, some day, will see it too.

Ollen70: Wow. These are coming out of nowhere. Lots of latent inspiration, I guess. Well, let me know what you think. There are still quite a few scenarios I'm considering writing through this series, and comments are always very, very welcome.


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